Have a Very Harry Birthday
by Slytherclaw96
Summary: The war's over. The good guys have won and the baddies are dead. It's Hermione's 19th birthday, her first since the war ended, and Harry wants a word in private with her. Just a short drabble for the Alliterated Pairings challenge on HPFC.


**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter I can assure you that Sirius, Lupin, Snape and Dumbledore would be alive, Malfoy or Harry would be with Hermione and no one would have the name "Longbottom."

**Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. Don't got a beta. **

**This is for the "Alliterated Pairings Competition" on HPFC.**

**And, one more thing: I love Ginny/Harry and think that Harry deserves Ginny but Hermione could do better than Ron. So, this is for the Harry/Hermione lovers. (I'll admit I was cheering for them but couldn't bear to see Ginny/Harry go down the drain.)**

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Have a Very Harry Birthday

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"Happy birthday!" they chorused.

Hermione winced slightly at the outrageously cheery singing. She hated huge birthdays and Christmases, mostly because all her relatives would fly in: cousins, aunts, uncles, and her bratty little sister. But she also hated the fact that the entire day she felt as though a massive spotlight had pinned her.

The Weasleys' garden looked immaculate, though, actually cleaning it up a tad. The boots and cauldrons that were scattered were gone; the mess the Death Eaters had left when they had raided the place a long time ago was finally cleaned up completely. The long tables were put end to end in order to accommodate her parents, the eight Weasleys (she winced again, looking at George), Harry, Neville, Hagrid, Luna and Viktor. The tables were almost buckling underneath the loads of Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking. The trees' leaves stayed their natural September brown, burnt orange and deep red.

It was as much a birthday celebration as a party to celebrate that they were all still alive, even though everyone, Hermione was sure, felt the ghosts of those not here anymore like storm clouds in cartoons. Harry's birthday had been very serious, remembering the last one with Remus, Tonks and Fred; Ginny's had been very similar; now it was Hermione's turn. The empty chairs were there almost out of respect for the dead but it was still loud and rowdy: Harry, the Weasley children (minus Percy who watched with Hermione) and Viktor played a fun game of Quidditch earlier, and George demonstrated some fireworks as dusk fell.

Now, the massive cake, floated towards her. Hermione couldn't help laughing as she saw its shape and swore Ron and Harry had input: it was a huge chocolate copy of _Hogwarts: A History_. They finished the song, all singing it out of tune and out of synch; George sang it very slowly and Percy's ears turned red as he sang it very quickly.

After eating the book, Luna asked, "Shall we move to presents?"

Hermione was a bit hesitant; what on earth had Luna got her? She nodded, though, eyeing the towering pile of uneven boxes and brightly wrapped packages.

Charlie Summoned one of them and, soon as wands were drawn and Summoning Charms cast, all of them held their presents. Hermione accepted one after another, her fingers feeling as though they had a million tiny paper cuts. A box of the newest Weasleys Wizard Wheezes from George and Ron ("You're going back to Hogwarts, right?"); a hand knitted jumper from Mrs. Weasley, along with plenty of homemade sweets; a large box of wizarding cat treats for Crookshanks from Mr. Weasley; a set of Romanian quills from Charlie ("Be careful with the Anti-Theft one."); a Rememberall from Neville ("Just in case," he shrugged.); a perfume from Viktor that smelt like currants; a copy of _Hogwarts: A Revised History_ from Percy; a diary from Ginny ("There's no Toms in here, I hope."); a silver pocket watch with an intricate design of interlocking circles from her parents ("We would when you came of age but we were a tad _busy._" Hermione blushed.); a bookmark that would always keep its place from Hagrid ("Found 'em in France with Olympe."); a box of fancy chocolates from Fleur and Bill. Luna said she wanted to wait a while and Harry wanted a word in private.

Mrs. Weasley started to clear the table of wrapping paper shreds and plates with sticky chocolate icing. Harry stood up and led them to a corner of the garden, where Crookshanks was busy chasing gnomes. He took a silver chain from his pocket and put it on her wrist. She shook it gently; it didn't slide up or down her wrist. It had a few charms on it: a wand that kept emitting silver, smoky stars, a book that opened and flipped through its silver pages, and a tiny sparkling heart that spun even when her wrist was stationary. Hermione stared at it for a second. "Harry," she said, shocked. It was all she could say.

He stared at his shoes, unnerved by her silence. "Yeah?"

"It's—it's—it's beautiful," she said softly. She had seen magic she never would have believed in but this simple magic was greater than it all.

"It's just a bracelet," he said awkwardly, colour rising.

"This heart, here," she said, her mouth going dry, her heart speeding up. "There was something you wanted to say," she prompted, forcing her voice to stay even and steady.

"When—since—on the Horcrux hunt," he stumbled, "when we visited my parents' graves, there was something I wanted to say." He took a deep breath. "I wanted to tell you that I was so lucky to have a friend to go onthis wild goose chase with me, that if we died I'd be all right just knowing that you were safe, and I realised, later, much, much later, that I didn't love you like a sister. 'Cause, let's face it, I love Ron, I love Mrs. Weasley, in some sick, twisted way I love the Dursleys, but I figured out later that I was in love with you."

Hermione stared. No, it couldn't be... after all these years, could he, _really?_

"So that's what I'm doing—now," he finished.

Hermione stared. "Ginny," she blurted out.

Harry shrugged. "Ron's like my brother, that makes Ginny like my sister. Plus, I don't think I could do that to Ron. If we broke up—Ginny and me—that would hurt him a lot and I honestly can't imagine marrying her."

Hermione nodded, numb. There was a pressure behind her navel, twisting her guts and burning the spots behind her eyes.

Harry met her eyes. "I'm in love with you, Hermione."

She nodded again. "Okay, great, yeah. Fantastic. Brilliant. Thanks."

The colour in his face drained. "Sure, no problem."

Hermione looked up. The stars were coming out, the sky was dark, dark blue and the village far off dotted the horizon with bright lights. She met his eyes again. He was babbling.

"—didn't expect you to feel the same, not at all. I've just got to get it out, you know? Like there's something eating me alive, and I don't really care what you think, so long as you know. I mean, our friendship might be ruined but I got that off my chest. It's great. Really, really—"

"Oh, shut up," she said, exasperated. She bunched her hands in his shirt and kissed him. A few surprised moments passed before Harry put his arms around her and Hermione removed her hands from his t-shirt and moving them to his hair. They stayed like that, completely unaware of the world, for an unknown amount of time. Somewhere, far off, Hermione heard the distinct sounds of Weasleys Wildfire Wizbangs; the brilliant, multi-coloured, beautiful fireworks displays.

"Hermione!" sang someone.

Reluctantly, Hermione let go of Harry and turned at the dreamy voice. Luna was standing right beside them, smiling in an absent sort of way, holding a horn that looked all too familiar. "Look, the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" she exclaimed, holding out the horn.

It exploded the moment Hermione touched it.

She woke up, panting, in a place that took a while to place. "Right," she whispered, rubbing her head, having banged it on her headboard in her haste to sit up. The Gryffindor girls' dormitory, which she now shared with Ginny, who was staring at her. Harry had loaned her the Marauders' Map and she was inspecting it with wandlight.

"You all right, there?" she asked, ripping the end of a Liquorice Wand off with her teeth.

Hermione still tried to catch her breath. She looked down at her left wrist. The bracelet was still there, wand, book and heart included. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, playing with the heart.

Ginny nodded, looking at her carefully. "Nightmare?"

"No, nothing too bad." She smiled.

Ginny smirked. "You talk in your sleep."

Hermione's eyes widened. Ginny was Harry's boyfriend. This could be nothing but bad. "What did I say?"

"You were saying 'birthday' a few times, then 'thank you' a dozen times, and I think you mentioned the bracelet Ron gave you."

Hermione nodded. It was okay. "Anything else?" she asked.

"You said, 'Ginny, shut up,' when I tried to wake you," she said, grinning.

Hermione smiled, too, glad Ginny didn't know her dreams.

"Then you rolled over, all happy and smiling. You've been having those dreams for a while," commented Ginny.

"Yeah," sighed Hermione. She decided in that instant to tell Ginny, rather than have her find out by her sleep-talking. "Ginny, I—"

She held up both her hands, accidentally blinding Hermione with her lit wand. "Sorry, but I don't want to hear about you snogging my brother."

Hermione fell back to her bed, irritated and annoyed at her own cowardice. She had battled Bellatrix Lestrange and now she couldn't tell her best friend that she fancied her boyfriend?

"Sweet dreams," said Ginny.

"It's not your brother," muttered Hermione, but Ginny either didn't hear or didn't care.


End file.
